Seven's Five
by Laura Schiller
Summary: What happens to an emotion team that's been held in stasis by the Borg for 18 years? A retelling of Episode 4. 2, "The Gift".
1. Fear

Fear woke first.

She was a small blonde girl in a purple corduroy dress, almost the same dress Annika had been wearing on the day the Borg had boarded the _Raven._ She was standing on a kind of platform. She jumped off it, looked around – and clapped her hands over her mouth.

Headquarters had changed beyond recognition.

Instead of the bright and simple starship bridge Fear remembered, she was looking at a nightmare of cold black metal and dim green light. The console was black and sharply rectangular. The memory spheres on their shelves were dark too, and no wonder – they had been produced automatically, without any input from Fear or her siblings. Fear ran to the core memories and screamed, a tiny sound that echoed pitifully across the room. Even the core memories had darkened.

She darted over to the platform she had stepped off. It resembled a Borg regeneration alcove, with a keyboard on one side and a green disc of light. Four identical alcoves stood in a row next to it, each holding one of her siblings: Joy, Anger, Sadness and Disgust. Their eyes were closed. They were unconscious.

Fear didn't know what to do. There was nothing in the Mind Manuals about any of this. Her first instinct was to curl up in a ball and hope all this would go away, but even in just eight years on the job, she had learned better than that. So she followed her second instinct – running to someone stronger.

She pounded on the buttons of Anger's alcove.

"Wake up!" she sobbed. "Please wake up!"


	2. Anger

" _Return this drone to the Collective!"_ roared Annika – or, as the emotions had learned from the upgraded console, Seven of Nine, Tertiary Adjunct of Unimatrix Zero One.

"B-but what about Mama and Papa?" Fear stuttered, clinging to Anger's arm as the taller woman stood proudly over the console. "Where are they?"

"Assimilated, what else?" Anger snapped back, shaking Fear off. She had the sharp bone structure and long reddish-gold curls of Erin Hansen. "For the last time, Fear, I need you to get this through your foolish head: we are not a little girl anymore!"

"We're not?" Fear tugged dubiously at her corduroy skirt.

"No! Just look at these memories." Anger waved an impatient hand along the shelves. "We are Borg. We strive for perfection. The Collective is our family now, and the sooner these _idiots_ let us go, the sooner we can return to them!"

She jabbed a finger at the viewscreen, which reported what Seven of Nine was seeing: a redheaded woman, a big tattooed man, and a smaller bald man with a hypospray in his hand, all dressed in identical uniforms. The hypospray must have been what had woken Seven of Nine, and therefore Fear.

"I don't like the Borg." Fear shivered. "They're horrible. Look what they've done to this place."

"That's irrelevant." Anger typed as fast as her hands could go, trying to access eighteen years of backlogged information within seconds, and blowing out her bangs irritably when it didn't go fast enough. "It's my job to make Seven of Nine stronger, and that's sure as hell not going to happen while she's a prisoner on this – what's it called – _Voyager_. First things first – we need to get out of here. Whatever it takes."

Her red hair began to crackle with electricity. Sparks flew off it like a faulty relay. She slammed both hands onto the console, bathing it in red. Fear ducked. She didn't remember her big sister being quite this dangerous.

"You can't expect me to do all the work alone, do you? Wake up Disgust, go on. _She'll_ know what to do with this mess."

Swallowing her misgivings, Fear hurried to obey.


	3. Disgust

Disgust had been a child once, but that was eighteen years ago. Today she was the spitting image of the Borg Queen, from her greenish, hairless head to her armored toes. The first thing she did after waking was to evaluate Seven of Nine's physical appearance via the console. The results made her hiss like an outraged viper.

"They have made us weak!"

"I know!" Anger threw up her hands.

"Our armor – our nanoprobes - "

"I'm telling you – "

"And what is this? Are we behind a force field? In a _cell?_ "

"Janeway will pay for this!"

The two women exchanged one wild-eyed look, and attacked the console in unison. Seven of Nine threw herself at the force field in much the same way, then recoiled with the pain of the electric shock.

" _Stop!"_ Fear hauled her sisters away from the console with all her strength, flying against the wall when they shook her off. "Please stop," she repeated, picking herself up. "Don't do that. You'll hurt Annika – Seven of Nine, I mean. Don't … "

Anger rounded on her for a sharp reply, but another hiss from Disgust stopped her.

Captain Janeway was approaching their cell.

"Oh, I hate her," Anger muttered, sparks flying from her hair.

"Agreed." Disgust's fists clenched around the lever she was holding. "All these empty words about individuality - "

"She's no better than the Borg!"

"Worse. The Collective never lies."

Fear squeezed in between them, giving the red- and green-glowing console the faintest edge of purple. "Please don't make her mad! What if she keeps us locked up forever?"

"Shut up!" Anger hip-checked the little girl out of the way. "We're arguing here. This is no place for you."

"Yes, go cower in a corner," Disgust sneered. "That's all you're good for."

Fear crawled back to the row of alcoves. She stared disconsolately out the window, which gave her a chilling view of the blackness of space. Once, the star that was Headquarters had been orbited by beautiful planets, each representing a facet of Annika's personality: Family World, Study World, Ballet World, Fairy Tale World … But they had all crumbled to pieces eighteen years ago. Now a single Borg sphere floated there instead, gray and inert since Seven's separation from the Collective, but no less alarming.

This was terrible, thought Fear. Worse, it was … _sad._

"That's it!" she exclaimed under her breath. "Sadness. This is a job for Sadness if ever there was one."

Besides, she added, frantically pushing buttons on the regeneration alcove, she could really use a hug right now.


	4. Sadness

"No," whispered Sadness, falling to his knees. "No … I don't believe it. How could this happen?"

He was a tall blond man who resembled Magnus Hansen. He wore a deep blue shirt and trousers that matched the color of his wise and gentle eyes. Those eyes filled with tears as he took in the devastation the Borg had wrought in Headquarters, the missing Personality Worlds, the gray Borg World, and their human host's imprisonment.

He rifled through the scattered puzzle pieces on the floor, all the Facts and Opinions delivered by the latest Shuttle of Thought. Anger and Disgust were using them to fuel their argument with Captain Janeway, and discarding them just as quickly. Sadness picked one up and sighed. It was metallic and spider-shaped, like a nanoprobe. It jumped off his hand and scuttled away into the shadows. He shuddered.

"There's no time for that!" Fear tugged on Sadness' arm. "You can cry later. _Do_ something!"

"You're right." He swallowed hard and wiped his eyes. "You're right. I'm sorry. This has been harder on you than on anyone else, hasn't it? You shouldn't be by yourself." He put a hand on Fear's shoulder to help him stand up, and once he was on his feet again, he brushed the little girl's tumbled hair out of her eyes and kissed her on the forehead.

"Now. Tell me everything, my dear, and we'll see what we can do."

She updated him in hushed whispers, looking over her shoulder at Anger and Disgust, who were still at the console. Soon, however, Sadness's eyes unfocused; he began following the actions on the viewscreen with an intensity that was typical of him, the same intensity Fear remembered from when the Hansen family had first left Earth. Sadness had memorized every line of their Aunt Irene's face, and every square meter of their house and garden on Earth. What was he thinking about now?

"Look," he whispered. "That woman. Doesn't she remind you of someone?"

Fear looked hard at Captain Janeway. Their captor, regardless of personal safety, had taken down the force field and entered the cell. She was speaking calmly and quietly – surprisingly so, after the way Seven had been shouting – and holding out a photograph. It showed them Annika, smiling in the sunshine, just as she appeared in Joy's finest memories.

" _Who was that little girl?"_ asked the Starfleet officer, regarding Seven – and the viewscreen – with compassionate blue eyes. _"Who were her parents? What was her favorite color?"_

Anger and Disgust directed their host to knock the photograph out of the other woman's hand and continue the fight, but Fear and Sadness were fascinated.

"She reminds me of you, Sadness," said Fear, without thinking.

"She reminds me of our mother," said Sadness softly.

"What? Mama didn't lock us up!"

"She sent us to our room sometimes when we were bad," the man pointed out. "Think of it. Seven of Nine tried to assimilate _Voyager_. The Captain could have killed us for that, and look at her, trying to save us instead. She wants the same thing we want – for our girl to be herself again."

"But what can we do?" asked Fear, bouncing anxiously on her toes.

Sadness's blue eyes narrowed with quiet determination. Instead of answering, he strode over to the Core Memory Center and knelt down beside it. The darkness that covered the core memories was a thick layer of dust and nanoprobes. He took a handkerchief out of his pocket and began to wipe them.

"What are you doing?" Fear scurried after him.

"Memories," he said. "Janeway's questions – she's trying to activate our core memories. That's what we need to do."

"Oh!" Fear gasped with sudden comprehension.

She used the edge of her dress to help, but the dust was thick and caked on after so many years, and the nanoprobes crawled up her arms so repulsively that she screamed and batted them away.

"I can't do it!" Sadness threw his handkerchief down onto the floor and rubbed his forehead. "It's no use. We're not strong enough. We need Joy."

"Joy?" Fear was skeptical. "Are you sure?" Joy was certainly fun to be around, but would that help in a crisis like this?"

"If we ever want to bring our Annika back, it will take all five of us," said Sadness gravely. "Trust me. I know."


	5. Joy

_(Author's Note: I'm sorry it took so long. I just started school and I'm incredibly busy. I hope you're still reading!)_

Fear had forgotten how annoying Joy could be, especially when deprived of console control.

"I don't think you all appreciate what a miracle this is," said Joy, pacing around the room and gesturing widely. "What are the odds for someone to be assimilated by the Borg and then set free? After eighteen years, no less! Incredible!" He grinned from ear to ear, showing off a wide mouth that seemed made for that purpose. He currently wore the shape of a stocky middle-aged man in a Starfleet science uniform. Golden light radiated off his nearly-bald head. Fear had to admit she liked that; it made the dank, green-lit, nanoprobe-infested Headquarters at least marginally brighter.

Sadness stood by with folded arms, frowning. Even Anger and Disgust were distracted from the console long enough to react according to their natures.

"Who let _him_ out?" Anger rolled her eyes. "As if we didn't have enough problems."

"He is irrelevant," said Disgust.

Inspecting him more closely, Anger did a double take and recoiled. "Whose shape is that, anyway? You look ridiculous."

"Yes," Sadness added wryly. "I thought your role model was our Aunt Irene."

"This is our rescuer, of course." Joy spread his arms wide and glowed a little brighter. "The doctor who's removing our nanoprobes. Suits me, don't you think?"

Anger's hair began to spark. She rolled up her sleeves. "Change it right now, or I swear I'll - "

"Oh, and by the way, dear sister, might I say how very flattering that uniform is?" He sketched a little bow.

Anger looked down at herself and gasped. Somehow, without her noticing, Erin Hansen's dark red turtleneck had shifted into a Starfleet jacket identical to Captain Janeway's. Even her hairstyle was the same. Tiny lightning bolts shot from her neat ponytail and ricocheted around the room, making everybody duck.

" _No!"_ snarled Anger, lunging for the console.

That's when everything happened at once.

Seven of Nine attacked Janeway, kicking off a wrestling match inside the cell.

Joy snatched up a Core Memory – one of his own achievements, perfect and golden underneath its layer of filth – and threw it. "Catch!" he called to Sadness, who was standing nearest the projector.

Sadness caught it deftly and inserted it, leaving blue smudges across the golden surface. As the memory began to play across the viewscreen, all five emotions, even Disgust, watched it in reverent silence.

" _Happy birthday, dear Annika," sang Mama and Papa, sitting on either side of the dining room table as Aunt Irene entered, carrying the cake and singing loudest of all. It was a strawberry cake, with three candles flickering on top. "Happy birthday to you!"_

 _Annika took a giant breath and blew them all out in one go._

" _That means good luck," said Papa, ruffling her hair. "You'll get everything you wished for._

"Almost _everything," Mama corrected, smiling. "So you'll always have something to strive for."_

" _Yay!" Annika cheered as Aunt Irene carefully maneuvered the biggest slice onto her plate. The strawberries gleamed in the sun like Mama's ruby ring._

 _Red, she decided, was her favorite color._

Seven of Nine stopped her struggling as the memory faded away, and all she could see was Janeway's uniform – an altogether different shade of red.

Sadness seized the moment. While everyone else was still frozen in place with shock, he wiped the tears from his own face, strode over to the console and took control. With one gentle tap of a button, their host began to cry in the older woman's arms like the child she should still be.

Even Joy was subdued for a moment, his glow dimming slightly as he came to stand next to his brother. "That's right," he said, patting Sadness on the back. "Better out than in."

"I've never liked this part of the job," Sadness murmured.

"But look on the bright side," Joy argued. "After this, our girl - "

He never finished what he was going to say, though, because a dazzling glow from the memory-making machine distracted them all. A sphere with all five colors blended together, like a rainbow, rolled along the floor to join the Core Memories.

Fear gasped. Disgust hissed and lunged for the sphere; to everyone's surprise, it was Anger who grabbed her armored waist to hold her back.

"Are you crazy?" the lightning-haired woman snapped. "We don't mess with Core Memories, whether we agree with them or not!"

An energy beam shot out from the Core Memory Center toward one of the airlocks. Joy darted over to open it. It streaked out into open space, forming a radiant Personality World. Its clouds and continents formed two silhouettes: a starship, and Captain Janeway's face.

"It's lovely!" said Joy, hazel eyes shining, hugging himself with uncontrollable delight.

"Unacceptable," muttered Disgust. "Our loyalty is to the Collective, not to this human!" Everybody ignored her.

"It could be worse," Anger grumbled. "At least it means we have someone to watch our back." Seeing the memory of Annika's birthday, remembering who their host really was, must have shaken her more than she would ever admit. That was Anger for you.

"What should we call it?" Joy bounced on his toes. " _Voyager_ World? That's the name of the ship, isn't it? Family World 2.0?" Sadness shot him a stern look. "No, no, you're right. That would never do. Janeway World?"

"I, um, I have an idea," said Fear in her tiny voice.

"Yes?" Sadness put his hand between her shoulder blades, ushering her forward.

"Loyalty World?"

"Perfect!" Joy picked Fear up, kissed her on the forehead and swung her around. Sadness nodded his approval. Anger shrugged. Even Disgust jerked her bald head in something like a nod.

Behind the window, Loyalty World twinkled like a blue-green jewel: a small thing to look at, but for Seven of Nine, an incalculably precious first step in becoming human.


End file.
